


Ten Kisses

by wintervixen86



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, French Kissing, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintervixen86/pseuds/wintervixen86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeves thinks it's damn funny to plant charmed mistletoe all over Hogwarts. Guess who's tasked with clearing it out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Kisses

“Look at this.”

Harry took the neatly rolled scroll from Hermione and smoothed it out.

 _**THE 2011 CHRISTMAS PRANK:** _

_**Perpetrator:** Peeves.  
 **Victims:** The 8th year students of Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.  
 **Weapon:** Charmed mistletoe.  
 **Effect:** When walking under mistletoe, students become ‘stuck’ until released with a kiss._

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”

“The mistletoe,” Hermione sighed, “Professor McGonagall has had enough; she’s going to start assigning Inter-House teams to get rid of it. Dumbledore’s suggestion, of course.”

“That sounds like Dumbledore,” Harry said.

“I kinda like the mistletoe,” Ron put in from across the table. He took a bite of his toast. “I missed half of Potions yesterday because I was stuck outside the boys’ toilet. I couldn’t move until Parvati wandered by and took pity on me.”

Harry grinned, “Seamus has been purposely getting stuck on the one just outside the girls’ bathroom on the second floor.”

Ron pointed at Harry happily. “So that’s why I haven’t seen him in three days!”

They both laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “This whole situation is disruptive and childish.”

“You’re just saying that because you got pulled in with Goyle,” Harry teased.

Hermione shuddered. “Please don’t remind me.”

The mistletoe had first started to pop up three days ago. At first, it just appeared intermittently, but by the second day, over two hundred cuttings had found their way into the nooks and crannies of Hogwarts.

It was hidden all over the place: hanging from chandeliers, concealed beneath water goblets, stuck in cauldrons, slipped under rugs, shoved down between the cushions in the Gryffindor common room and displayed prominently over doorways. Pansy was even walking around unknowingly with a piece stuck in her ponytail.

All over the castle, students were freezing under the Charmed plants; once the Charm took hold, a student would be stuck there until another unwitting student wandered close enough to be propelled by the Charm into the other’s personal space. Unfortunately ... there was only one way to get free.

It was madness.

Harry should have known that Dumbledore would turn the entire event into some messed up way to promote Inter-House unity.

That night, the 8th years assembled in the Great Hall and sat patiently whilst Professor McGonagall drew names at random from her hat to allocate partners. The goal for each team was to remove twenty pieces of mistletoe from a specific area of the castle.

Harry drew the third floor.

He also drew Draco-fucking-Malfoy.

He should have known.

*

Harry met Draco that night in the third floor corridor. As expected insults were thrown, demands were made and henceforth rejected. It was a grand old mess. By the time they were halfway down the hallway; neither of them was speaking to the other.

Things were running relatively smoothly until Harry’s feet abruptly froze in place. Harry looked up. Crap.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Potter,” Draco scowled when he realised where Harry was standing. “I know it’s difficult when you’re a specky git, but open your eyes and look where you’re going.”

Stupid. Bloody. Mistletoe.

Harry glared up at the cheerful red and green arrangement before attempting to move away from underneath it - his feet were, well and truly stuck, to the ground. It was as if someone had cast a Body-Freezing Spell but only to his feet.

Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced around the room awkwardly. They were alone. Harry’s eyes reluctantly caught Draco’s.

Draco’s eyes widened when he realised what Harry wanted. “No fucking way, Potter.”

Harry sighed, “Look, we have to get this done and there’s no one else around. So if you want to leave me here and get rid of two twenty scraps of mistletoe all by yourself, then go for it.”

Draco blinked. “Potter, we haven’t even started and you’re already standing under that damn plant.”

“Well, I didn’t stand here on purpose!” Harry shot back.

Draco scowled and cursed under his breath. “You tell anyone about this and you’re dead.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Believe me, this isn’t something I’ll be screaming from the rooftops.”

Draco didn’t move.

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s a Muggle expression. Can we get this over with?”

Draco was still muttering and cursing under his breath as he walked slowly across the room. The second he was in range, the mistletoe dragged him the remainder of the way and shoved him into Harry’s personal space.

Harry didn’t even have time to prepare himself before Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips quickly to Harry’s mouth. It was quick barely even a brush of lips. Draco pulled away and was halfway across the room before Harry realised what had happened.

“Let’s go, Potter.”

*

Harry didn’t like this; not one damn bit.

The problem was that the mistletoe was hidden. Between them, Harry and Draco were only aware of a dozen or so locations where the mistletoe was definitely concealed, and none of those was on the third floor - so Harry wasn’t all that surprised that after continuing down the corridor Draco abruptly froze in his place.

Harry couldn’t help it; Draco had given him such shit when he got caught under the mistletoe, so why shouldn’t Harry give it right back?

“Hey, what was that you called me?” Harry began giving Draco’s frozen body a wide berth as he walked around him. “A specky git. And what was that you said?” Harry pretended to think about it. “... something about opening my eyes and looking where I was going— huh. Weren’t you just saying something like that, Malfoy?”

“Stop talking to me like I’m a fucking-twelve-year-old!”

Harry glared. “Then stop acting like it!”

Draco glared back, and the boys’ lips curled as if they were both about to snarl at each other.

Finally Draco scowled. “Just get me out of here, Potter.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly. “Forget it.”

“Well, then get the hell away from me. I’m sick of looking at you.”

Harry lifted his eyes helplessly to the ceiling. Merlin, help him. Now Harry was the one cursing. Somehow, it was so much worse being the one approaching than just standing there, helpless.

Harry brushed his mouth over Draco’s and made whisper-light contact. He flung himself back the second that the spell released him, raking the back of his hand across his mouth, desperate to get rid of the sensation.

“Urgh.” He didn’t want to sound like a twelve year old, but gross; Slytherin germs! One kiss was enough, but two kisses? Even with the bare minimum of contact, that was more than enough for Harry in this lifetime.

*

They walked carefully now, eyes scanning the ceiling and walls as they progressed down the corridor, opening doors at random and slipping inside.

Harry successfully spotted two wreaths and set them on fire. According to McGonagall, the only way to get rid of the mistletoe arrangements was to burn them. So, Harry lit them with the incantation and watched them burn, thankful that each successful removal meant one less time he’d have to kiss Malfoy.

Suddenly Harry let out a loud, abrupt curse when his feet slammed into place. He looked around wildly; but he couldn’t see the mistletoe. It wasn’t until Draco kicked aside the rug that he saw the red and green plant lurking underneath the carpet.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“Fuck off, Potter,” Draco snarled, “I’m not kissing you again.”

“Oh come on, it was hidden under the rug.” Harry frowned. “This shit is everywhere!”

Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s neck and slammed their lips together, pouring all his frustration and annoyance into the kiss. Harry felt the Charm release his body, and a second later Draco’s lips released his.

Now that the surprise was gone, Harry was startled to realise that Draco’s lips had been warm. He never would have expected that, even when they were mashed up against his own. Harry was suddenly very aware of the lingering sensation of Draco’s fingers on the back of his neck.

He shook himself and shoved the unwanted thoughts to the back of his mind.

*

Within the hour, they were fighting, sniping at each other, and bickering over nothing.

“You want to know what I think?” Draco asked, sounding irritatingly chiding.

“No, and I don’t give a damn either.” Harry gripped his wand tight, a layer of sweat building up on the palm of his hand.

“Wow, somebody is chatty today.” Draco deadpanned.

Harry ignored him and threw open the doors to a darkened storage cupboard. He stepped inside. He was barely over the threshold when his feet froze. “Fuck!”

Draco’s lips unnervingly found his in the dark, at first only a mere millimeter separating them. Their lips mingled, warm and sweet. Harry didn’t know who closed the distance first; probably both of them.

*

Harry wanted to kill somebody. No! Specifically, he wanted to kill Malfoy. He’d make sure to do it nice and slow too, all the while yelling at the little prick. He had to blame someone. Surely it was Malfoy’s fault that the melding of their lips burned him down to his toes.

*

It was Draco, who stumbled into the trap of the sixth wreath of mistletoe.

Harry didn’t even bother to say anything this time; he just calmly stepped into Draco’s personal space and let the Charm hold him.

It was an awkward position though - Draco was kind of half stuck underneath a portrait of a knight in yellow armour. It meant that Draco had to reach out and lift Harry’s chin to capture his mouth in a soft, light kiss.

The touch sent shock waves through Harry’s body and he responded without thinking by deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue between Draco’s lips, moaning ever so softly into his mouth when Draco sucked on it.

They broke apart for air. Harry stumbled several steps back.

“This is getting ridiculous. We can’t kiss two hundred or even twenty times.”

*

Harry didn’t know what was wrong with him.

He hooked a finger under Draco’s chin and kissed him. He kissed, licked, and sucked at Draco’s lips, plunging his tongue in again and again, rubbing it against Draco’s tongue and teeth until Draco’s tension loosened and he was kissing Harry back.

At first, Draco seemed more stunned than anything, but when it finally dawned that, yes, they were actually doing this, Draco wound his fingers into Harry’s hair and held on. The truth was that Draco was a good kisser, his tongue flicking against Harry’s lips before teasing inside. He had a sharp, bittersweet flavour, like Christmas cookies and mulled wine.

Draco caught Harry’s tongue and dragged it deeper into his mouth, sucking on it deliberately. One of his arms rose, wrapping around Harry’s neck and tugging him closer. The other settled against his waist, squeezing through the thin cotton.

Harry groaned, wanting more. He pushed himself closer to Draco until they were flush against each other. He felt like he was about to implode. Draco tasted so sweet and felt so damn good against him. That realisation in itself was enough to have Harry stiffening and shoving Draco back. “Stop.”

Draco’s cheeks were flushed and his breath was more than a little uneven. He looked everywhere except Harry as he struggled to get a hold of himself.

Swallowing thickly, Harry fumbled for his wand with shaking fingers, setting a quick fire to the mistletoe.

That was seven.

*

The next arrangement of mistletoe appeared above a doorway. Harry had the vague suspicion that Draco walked under it on purpose. Harry’s mind was too tangled and twisted to kick up a fuss.

Harry slumped against the doorframe, dragging Draco to him when he stepped into his space. Draco’s body leaned heavily into his, and Harry suddenly couldn’t think of anything better than this.

Bright grey eyes searched his as Draco’s lips parted to let out a needy sound. He used his hands to bring Harry’s face closer and bent forward to take those swollen lips into his mouth, tasting fear, frustration, and anxiety, all bundled up in layer after layer of want. Draco let go of Harry’s wrists, and Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, pulling him closer for more kisses, more pressure, more friction—as much of him as he could get.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief as their lips parted in unison, tongues melding with passionate desperation. Their bodies twisted, seeking the closest fit, hands delving into each other’s hair to hold the other close.

Harry eased off, giving them both room to breathe and offering Draco an out. When Draco didn’t let go, Harry kissed him again arms wrapping around his waist.

When they finally broke apart, Draco’s fingers remained in his hair. Harry’s hands descended to Draco’s shoulders and then along his arms before dropping down to his side.

*

This time, Harry didn’t say anything, just waited underneath the mistletoe until Draco realised that he was no longer following.

Harry watched as Draco paused and turned, their eyes met and Harry lost track of the words they spoke with only their eyes. Harry swallowed; he couldn’t do this again, not when his emotions were wound up so tight, and he could feel the sexual tension burning between them, even from across the room.

Draco closed the distance between them and hovered just outside Harry’s reach. Harry closed his eyes to rid himself of the image of Draco standing there expectant, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from the amount of kisses they had already shared. But it didn’t help; the vision was seared into the back of his eyes.

Harry could feel Draco’s body brush his - the fabric of their shirts touched, then flattened as Draco stepped close enough to meld their torsos together. Harry crushed his lips against Draco’s, making a needy sound in the back of his throat, as he slipped his tongue back into Draco’s mouth. Draco was right there with him, sliding his tongue to meet up with his. Draco’s fingers dug into Harry’s sides and he whimpered, pressing closer.

Their tongues sparred for dominance, each tasting and claiming every corner. For Harry, the heat was instantaneous, exploding outward from his belly. His cock jerked, demandingly, still worked up from their last kiss. He pressed his body as close to Draco as he could get. Draco’s hands didn’t seem to know where they wanted to go as they moved over Harry’s frame like two fluttering birds. He finally settled on slipping his hands beneath Harry’s shirt and tracing them over the silken skin of his stomach.

Harry ground his hips against Draco, gasping at the surprise of finding something even hotter brushing against his own erection. Draco nipped at Harry’s lips, before slowing the kiss to a languid perusal of Harry’s mouth. Harry felt Draco about to pull away and sighed inwardly with regret, but they couldn’t stay here like they were. They were right in the middle of the hall anyone could walk by.

Draco pulled away, his breath choppy, and his cock hard enough to pound nails. “We can’t do this here.”

There was the barest hint of regret in Draco’s voice. Harry latched onto it like a vice and turned the merest hint into a full-blown suggestion. “Where can we do it then?”

Draco’s eyes glittered and Harry braced himself for the ultimate shut down.

It didn’t come.

*

Harry was nervous as he followed Draco down the mistletoe-free hall. What in the hell were they doing? Was Harry actually following his sworn enemy to a deserted spot with the promise of finishing what they had started? Harry shook his head; this was all too weird. Draco was in front of him though and Harry couldn’t stop the threads of desire from taking root.

There was no going back now.

Draco stopped outside a wooden door and hesitated. “What happens in this room stays in the room, agreed?”

“This isn’t a good idea,” Harry murmured softly, but he didn’t step away.

“Definitely not,” Draco agreed. “But here we are.”

Harry nodded.

“Okay.” Draco licked his lips nervously, his wet, pink tongue moving sensuously over the expanse of his bottom lip. Harry’s mouth watered. Unconsciously, he leaned in closer.

“Fuck it,” Draco murmured under his breath.

His mouth was taken, and this time Draco’s kiss was rough and claiming. Harry didn’t even fight it, accepting the kiss and matching it stride for stride.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, yanking his lips away from Draco’s long enough to take in some much needed air. How far were they taking this? Why wasn’t his body telling him to stop, and why in the hell were they still in the hallway?

Harry yanked open the door and shoved Draco inside. The door slammed behind them, blocking the view of the two of them pulling at one another’s clothing and melding their lips together in a long, hot kiss. The promise in that kiss sent Harry’s blood rushing straight to his dick, which promptly leaped in response, butting heavily against the zipper of his jeans.

Draco slammed Harry back against the wall, knocking a vial of yellow liquid to the floor. The sound of shattering glass pulled Harry to his senses long enough to realise that they were in some sort of supply cupboard, but he didn’t care.

Draco growled and forced a knee between his legs, spreading them.

Shuddering, Harry gripped Draco’s shoulders and ground his hips against him. Suddenly he needed more contact something, anything, to relieve the burning ache radiating from his growing erection to every part of his body.

Harry grabbed the hem of his shirt and dragged it up over his head. He paused with his arms in the air, poised to toss the fuzzy material aside. His gaze zeroed in on the slender pale hand Draco held over his fly. Draco was idly toying with the button of his jeans, but it wasn’t coming open.

“Need some help with that?” Harry asked, letting the shirt fall. He brushed Draco’s hands aside and used his thumb to flick the top button open, leaning down to press a heated wet kiss on Draco’s mouth as he did so.

Draco slowly pressed his palm against the hard shaft beneath the denim. Soft, sexy whimpers escaped Harry’s mouth with every panting breath as Draco pressed his tongue in a hard stroke against the throbbing pulse below his ear, and then flicked the second button open.

Harry’s breath came in gasps as Draco’s fingers tugged on the zipper of his pants. A warm hand slid into his underwear and worked him to a higher level of arousal that he ever thought possible.

Draco stroked him a few times and rubbed the ridge of flesh behind his sac. “Does that feel good, Potter?”

Harry let out a strangled breath. “Merlin, yes.”

Draco coated his fingers with the pre-come leaking from Harry’s cock, and spread it along his shaft.

Skimming one hand down Draco’s side, he came to the blond’s jeans and began hastily unsnapping the buttons to get them open. He yanked at the fabric, letting out a pleased breath when Draco’s cock, now free from its confines, easily jumped into his hands. Draco’s cock felt like a bar of lead; he was so hard and silky. He reached out and grabbed Draco’s wrist, pulling him flush against his chest. Their cocks collided, Harry’s already slippery wet with pre-come.

Draco reached down between them, and grasped both their cocks in his hand. He slid his palms along their length in a long slow pull. Harry groaned into his mouth and his hips arched against the tight grip. Draco quickened his rhythm squeezing on every upstroke.

Draco released his own cock, and concentrated on Harry’s. He leaned forward, burying his face in the side of Harry’s neck. His teeth scrapped Harry’s Adam’s apple, followed by his tongue, trailing a heated path to the hollow of Harry’s throat. He sucked the skin until he drew up a mark then moved on to claim another patch of skin. He was going to have a necklace of hickeys in the morning, but at the moment, Harry couldn’t bring himself to care.

His free hand reached down and cupped Draco’s sac, rolling the orbs within, before moving to grip Draco’s cock in his fist, matching Draco stroke to stroke, bringing their cocks back together.

Jeans still tangled around his thighs; Harry dragged his mouth back to Draco’s and thrust his slick tongue inside. Deep strokes of tongue against tongue built the heat between them to an even higher pitch as their writhing bodies rubbed their cocks together. Harry’s hands trailed like paths of fire over sensitive skin, rubbing and petting wherever he could reach: Draco’s shoulders, his back, and the smooth planes of his hips.

“Fuck,” Draco panted, “I’m gonna come. Come for me, Potter.”

Those words were all the incentive Harry needed.

Harry flushed and stiffened. He cried out as he came hard. A second later, Draco’s release joined his, and they slumped together, their sticky fluids connecting their bodies.

Harry was still struggling to regain his breath when Draco whispered.

“We still have to find the rest of the mistletoe.”

 

THE END


End file.
